


Snazzy

by Chocolatepot



Category: The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (TV)
Genre: Bickering, Clothing, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:37:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21890599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocolatepot/pseuds/Chocolatepot
Summary: Susie does NOT like to dress up.
Relationships: Miriam "Midge" Maisel & Susie Myerson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 35
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Snazzy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rayguntomyhead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayguntomyhead/gifts).



> Wow, these characters sure do talk a lot! I didn't intend this fic to be 95% dialogue, but Amy Sherman-Palladino just reached into my soul and made them go and go and go. Hope you enjoy!

“We have to get you something nice to wear,” says Midge one day over lunch, completely unprompted.

“Whaddaya mean?” Susie asks, because it came out of nowhere.

“Something nice, something that makes you look like a real agent backstage.”

“I _am_ a real agent!”

“Yes, but you don’t look like one. You look like you just wandered in off the street.” Midge gesticulates with her pastry, waving it in the air.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve seen the managers who come in with the other performers. They look a little – you know – snazzy.”

“Snazzy? You want me to look snazzy?”

“I don’t think you could look snazzy. You _exude_ an anti-snazziness.”

“If you don’t think I can be snazzy, then why are we even talking about it?”

“Look, you don’t have to make this a whole big thing. It’s not like you need to wear it all the time. But you should have a decent suit.”

Midge is always snazzy. She has an endless supply of dresses for every possible occasion, each one precisely fitted to her by department store tailors. Half of them have matching hats or gloves or purses. And then the coats, and the shoes … Susie, on the other hand, has a bunch of striped shirts she works her way through with the same jeans and leather jacket. She has no snazz.

Midge brings it up again when they go back out on the street. “I just think you’d look more professional in a suit. I’m not going to try to make you wear a dress or anything!”

“I will literally _stab_ you if you try to make me wear a dress.”

“I just said I wasn’t going to try to make you wear a dress!” Midge wrinkles her nose. “I can’t even picture you in a dress. My brain just goes blank, like the tv when it’s static.”

“A suit is just a dress that’s made with pants.” That slips out when Susie’s mouth is on autopilot. It has to be, Midge always talks so fast.

“What? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Well, I’m not wearing a suit either.” Just the thought makes her antsy.

“I don’t see why you’re being so ridiculous about this, it’s just a coat and pants that are both made out of the same thing. If you were wearing leather pants, you’d be wearing a suit. A very butch suit.”

“No suit!”

Somehow, Midge steers Susie down the block and into a cab that takes them to B. Altman, a place Susie never thought she’d have to shop at. First there’s a flurry at the makeup counters, where everyone’s excited to see Midge back again. They shower her with samples of lipstick and perfume, even a tiny jar of red nail polish, while Susie stands to one side with her arms crossed, waiting it out. Eventually, Midge breaks free of them, waving, and ushers Susie up the stairs.

“I think you’re about the size of a stout boy. Or do they use the word ‘stout’ for boys? Maybe it’s chubby. Husky? A husky boy.”

“Excuse me?”

“‘Stout’ seems like a word I’ve only ever seen in advertisements for women’s clothes. Why is that, do you think? We call men stout. My mother refers to men as stout. But magazines don’t.”

“What the magazines say isn’t the problem, it’s the fact that you just referred to me as a husky boy.”

“I didn’t refer to you as a husky boy, I just said that you’re probably the same size as one, so that’s where we’re going to find you some new clothes.”

“In the husky boy section?”

Midge turns out to be right, which is annoying but not unexpected, because when it comes to clothes she’s pretty much always right. Susie is basically the same size as a very large twelve-year-old, and there are a lot of options for dressy jackets for some poor kids. One of them happens to be there at the same time with his mother, and he’s having a meltdown as she tries to make him put on a navy blue number with brass buttons. Midge ignores it completely, but Susie can’t help looking over every thirty seconds at the drama.

“I would really like to see you in gray – that would be so different. I think you’d pop in gray.”

“Who pops in gray?”

“You would pop in gray, if only because it would be different from your usual. Come on, try it on.”

“Hey, lady!” Susie shouts to the woman with the screaming boy. “He doesn’t like it!”

“Susie!”

“Leave him at home and just pick out something you like next time!”

“You can’t just yell at people in public.”

“That kid sure doesn’t know that.”

“The kid is a kid. Try on the coat, it’s going to look really nice on you.”

Susie eyeballs it. “Don’t need to.”

“What do you mean, you don’t need to? Everybody needs to try on clothes in the store, it’s how you make sure they’ll fit.”

“I don’t need to. It’ll fit, and I’ll never wear it anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, you’ll wear it.” Midge sounds very smug and certain of herself.

“No, I won’t. Trust me, I know what I’m gonna wear, and I’m not gonna wear that.”

“When we go to Vegas, you’re going to want to wear something nice in those casinos or when you’re backstage with Shy Baldwin’s agent.”

“I’m not.”

“You’ll feel silly if you don’t.”

“I won’t.”

“You will.”

“I won’t.”

“Why are you being so difficult about this?”

“Look, I don’t want to get into it.” Susie doesn’t know how to explain to Midge, a woman who talks to her mother every day and dresses just like her too, that her own ma used to force her into “nice clothes” for mass every Sunday and for every holiday or family event – dinners, bond hearings, that kind of thing. Not only were they uncomfortable and made her look stupid, there were the comments from Ma about how awkward and ugly she looked. _You made me wear this!_ she’d yell back, and then things would get loud.

She sighs. “I’m not gonna promise I’ll wear it. But … if it’s that important to you, I promise I’ll bring it along, and if there is a time I wanna look nicer, this is what I’ll wear. Okay?”

For once, Midge doesn’t answer back, just puts her head to one side and nods. Susie doesn’t know if her friend’s just given up, or if she herself gave too much away – but either way, Midge cooling down means the pressure’s off, so she tries not to think about it.


End file.
